And Suns Burn Bright
by Aifsaath
Summary: The very moment the Sith set their plan in motion, the young Queen of Naboo leads the Morning Mass. A Padawan and his Master enjoy the tranquil peace of tea ceremony. Trillions live, struggle and die, unaware of the small boy lost in the sands of Tatooine who holds their fate in his hands. The Chosen One will come, the prophecy says and yet it seems impossible.
1. Wild Child, Krayt Child

_There once was a night lasting for days a long time ago when Tatooine was blue and green. There once was a night lasting for days when thick clouds of smoke and mist filled the sky. There once was a night lasting for days before the two suns returned, and a loud roar shook the world._

_The people stopped in their tracks and looked up to the skies. And the third sun shone bright. New and loud. White and burning. Burning hot and bright, casting the old suns into shadows. The third sun scorched the grasslands, boiled the rivers, boiled the seas, and behind only dustpans were left. Death ruled Tatooine._

_And Death rules it still._

_. . ._

Nana Ariaaru was dying. Her breath was a dusk wind howling in sandstone crevices as her quiet broken voice sung tales she had brought into her exile in Mos Espa. To keep her company when her kin had chased her away for reasons Anakin knew not. And even now, the last days of her life, she repeated the ancient story, over and over, with feverish compulsion. Anakin, _remember_, she said.

Her forehead burned when he touched her.

Nana Ariaaru had always been there. Unchanging, unmoving. Free and imprisoned in this shack where bluegrass hung from the ceiling, and stone idols of krayt dragons warded the door against any danger. Hungry beasts would flee the moment they saw the idols. No scorpion with its long sting eager to kill would escape their eyes. Nor a spying master with his whip ready to strike.

The old Tusken embodied Tatooine. The only one who truly belonged the way the slaves abducted from worlds glistening in the night sky did not. She knew all that was there to be known. She knew when the rain would come and when the plagues would hit the town. She knew which spring was safe to drink and which plants healed wounds.

She knew that Anakin dreamt dreams of fire and thousands of men bearing the same face.

Mom knelt at her side, a cup of blackleaf juice in her hands.

"It'll be over soon, Nana. Drink."

"No." She turned her head away. Her eyes used to be yellow. Now, they were covered with milky white film. Her sallow face covered with chapped scales used to scare him. Sometimes Anakin caught himself staring at her beaked mouth full of sharp teeth, wondering if she had ever tasted human flesh. Her stories never wasted water nor food. And a dead man sated craving as any other carcass. "Not yet. I must finish the story first."

"Nana, you've told it thousand times. Anakin can recite it all by heart already. Here, have some juice. It'll make the pain go away. Please. Save your strength for-"

"I'm not done yet!" Ariaaru wheezed. "Someone must remember. Someone must keep it. There will be no one left. Anakin…" She sobbed. "Anakin, where are you? "

"I'm here, Nana."

She grabbed his hand. Her claws scratched on his skin as he leaned closer to hear her whisper.

"_Not just men. Women and children too._ I hear you clear, witch child. Don't do it, I beg you. Drink all water I have, but spare my blood. Little krayt, there will be no one left. No one to remember my name. Only you."

He looked at her, confused. Mom did not understand any better. Evening wind hit at the windows, knocking them open, bringing in sand and screams of the beasts lurking behind the whitewashed walls. Goosebumps crawled all over Anakin's arms. He tried to shake Ariaaru off, but the more he struggled, the firmer her grip.

"Let him go, Nana!"

Reluctant, she complied. Her blind eyes bore into Anakin's. She was terrified, he realized.

"Don't leave me. Not you too."

"We'll stay, but you must stop scaring him." Mom took Ariaaru's hands into hers. "I know this is important to you. But he's just a child. Whatever you're afraid of, it's not his burden to bear."

"He must remember."

"He does."

"Does he?" She blinked. "It's so dark… So dark… Tell me, Anakin, what did the third sun bring?"

"The third sun brought curse onto this land."

. . .

_The third sun brought curse onto this land. Fire-rain fell by day. By night, earth shone with stars. What water was left, turned into poison. All life was born twisted. Merciful was death._

_One day the third sun fell from the sky._

_It was no sun – it was an egg._

_A mighty Krayt, who had lost her offspring to the plague, brought the egg to her empty nest._

_She-who-rules-the-sands wove her body around the egg heavy with child._

_And night fell on Tatooine._

_And morning came._

_And suns burned bright. The egg cracked and out the Child of Skies crawled, scales stark white and sharp, In the midst of the Great Waste it cried with hunger for the first time. She-who-rules-the-sands tore her chest open with her own teeth to let the Child latch on her own flesh. Stronger and stronger the Child grew with every gulp until the Mother withered to dust._

_Starving and terrible, the Child set on its path._

_It devoured ruins. It devoured towns. It devoured sickly flesh of the tainted. It devoured freefolk and slavers too._

_The Child brought fire birthed by suns to cleanse the world of the curse so water can return._

_. . ._

They did not bury her body. Instead, the following morning they carried her carcass to the rehydration centre where they would take care of it the way she would have preferred. Instead of getting paid, the owner had the right of the first claim to water extracted.

She was so light, to Anakin's surprise. Alive, she had never looked frail. Or maybe he did not recognize the signs of the old age in Tuskens.

Anakin did not cry. Neither did Mom. Watto gave them no time to mourn.

There was only her story, the one told and re-told thousand times with urgency he never understood.

One day he forgot.

_. . ._

_But the five moons saw what the Child had done and they feared its light. And they sang the songs of dreams sweet to lull the Child into eternal sleep_

_The first song reached the Child's ears and it roared in anger and reached to the skies. Its teeth sank into one of the moons. It turned red with its blood before it disappeared into darkness never to be seen again._

_The four moons sang the second song of tears shed by Her-who-rules-the-sands the moment she had been eaten alive. And the Child roared in grief and reached to the skies. Its teeth sank into another moon. It turned blue with its blood before it disappeared into darkness where its brother was left to rot._

_The three moons sang the last song. Of suns and shade. Of water fresh and wind cool. And the Child shed tears of longing and fell asleep. Where the tears landed, springs emerged from rocks._

_The three moons wanted to avenge their brothers. And thus, they took the ribs of Her-who-rules-the-sands and pierced the sleeping Child in its belly, spilling its guts all over Tatooine._

_The moons kneaded the bloodied flesh into the form of People. But it was the sun forge dwelling in the Child's flesh that breathed life into the meat and mind into the brains. And it was the sun forge in the Child's heart that kept the sleeping god alive._

_Ever since each night the moons sing the song to escape the justice. They fear the Child's rage. When it sighs in its dreams, they slip away. When it falls into deeper slumber, they return. But one day no song will be enough. The Child will rise and devour the moons._

_It will melt the world to recast it in the forge burning in its heart. Temper it in its fire._

_It will swallow the suns and a night will come._

_A night lasting for days._


	2. Paradise to be lost

_It is safe to assume that hyperspace travel is the ultimate technology in the era of interstellar civilisation. Minute details have changed in the passage of time, but the basic characteristics of the technology remain essentially the same – utilization of gravity wells of star systems in order to create a wormhole net (see HYPERSPACE) which is accessible by defined points in space with hyperdrive generators._

_The entrance points – space ports – are perhaps the largest energy consumers in the entire galaxy. Nevertheless, despite the cost their maintenance is of the utmost importance to any governing body in the Galaxy. All communication between star systems, the holonet or regular broadcast, is possible only through the special geometry of hyperspace. Hyperspace itself is stabilised by the spaceports anchoring the nodes deep into the spacetime, preventing them from disintegration._

_Encyclopaedia Galactica_

_(…) The decade before the outbreak of the Clone wars had been already marred by the political strife in the Galactic senate. Although very few records have survived the Great Purge and the subsequent destruction of the hyperspace system, let it be known and remembered that it was the power struggle between the mid-rim world of Naboo, the Galactic senate and the Trade Federation that cemented the conflict to erupt a few years later in full force. _

_Professor Essandra Alvari_

_Historia Mundi III_

**CHAPTER I - PARADISE TO BE LOST**

Steam rose from the oils infused bath. Padmé walked down the stairs towards the centre of the pool. Water licked first at her ankles. Her knees, her thighs, her belly. Up and up, until it reached her chin. Pebble tiles under her soles and her hair floating like seaweed.

She closed her eyes and dived.

When she was a little girl, she used to pretend she could transform into a fish. Swim down the rivers until reaching the wide ocean. Visit the luminous sea-cities of Gungans, the ones rumoured to resemble jewellery made of giant frogspawn. Discover what mysteries the Elders had left in the lands sunken under water. Know all that was buried in the sea bed.

Now, she was a queen, not a small child, and therefore such frivolities should have been left in the past, in the lake palace in Varykino. But here, in the blue green privacy of the pool, the little Padmé could coexist with Queen Amidala. After the whole day of wearing the white painted face of the royalty, Padmé was of the opinion she deserved this moment to keep to herself.

She did not emerge back to the surface until her lungs started to hurt.

The mosaic faces of The Five Graces gazed down from the dome ceiling; mirrors in their eyes, secretive smiles playing on their lips. Padmé smiled back.

She was not alone in the bathhouse. Sabé kept in the corner, watching her with discretion and a blaster placed on her lap. Her guard always discarded the Handmaiden's robe whenever she accompanied Padmé to the hot and humid air in the bathhouse and sat there in her underclothes, exposing her long sinewy limbs. How Panaka could think they looked even remotely similar was beyond Padmé's comprehension.

"Remember when I asked you to come to Theed with me?"

"I thought you were joking." Sabé leaned her back on the wall, her face unreadable as always. "I never expected you to ever get here. Let alone want me to follow you."

"No. I think I knew even before I stood for the election. I'd want you to stand by me. You've always given me the sense of ground under my feet. Whenever I wandered too far, you reminded me what I stood for. I was supposed to leave everyone behind when I was elected. I couldn't take anything from home with me."

"So, you took me."

"Call me sentimental if you want to."

"Oh, I want. Believe me." Sabé leaned forward, like a snake before striking, a predatory smirk curling her lips. "But I admit you timed your proposal well. Sunset, chirping birds, breezy scenery… You made it impossible for me to decline, damn my plans."

"Do you claim to be seduced into service?" Padmé swam to the edge of the pool, half lying back on the tiled wall. "Because I admit to no careful staging of my plea, nor any frantic pacing in the drawing room. And I definitely didn't use your weakness for nilaani meringue to set a trap."

To her surprise, Sabé paused before giving an answer. Whatever she was about to hear would not be pleasant or sugar-coated as the meringues.

"The only reason why I stay is _you_. I don't feel I'm of any real use to anyone while being here. Days come and go and the only thing that changes is the colour of my garb. I'm not angry at you for feeling safer this way, but frankly, I'm bored out of my mind."

"You want to leave." It sounded more accusatory than Padmé intended.

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm mulling over something I should have decided once and be done with it a year ago." She gave her a strained smile. "I'm not running away anytime soon, Padmé. I gave you my word. I'll stay until the end of this term."

"It'll be three more years."

"Enough time for you to grow into your crown. Panaka will give up his delusion of us looking even remotely similar. You'll enter your second term. I'll get back into the academy and join the Naboo sorry excuse of an army, effectively doubling its strength by my mere presence…"

Padmé had to chuckle. "Of course."

"Of course. You don't need me here."

That was not true at all, as far as Padmé was concerned. But she knew her friend well enough to understand arguments would be met with Sabé sticking to her decision by a sheer spite.

The bath was scalding hot and the humid air suffocating.

. . .

Five days later.

"_From now, every single jump of a cargo ship will be taxed. Entering a star system, it must go through customs as well. Tariff rates are left to the decision of the star systems." _The senator's ghostly blue face cracked into a gleeful smile. _"The Trade Federation has used our spaceport to the brink of collapse. This law will put an end to it, your Majesty."_

"We are happy to hear that, senator Palpatine," the Queen replied. "Please, accept our gratitude. We will inform you about any decisions on our side."

"_Without the home support, our party would have reached none of our goals. Your Majesty. Honourable Cabinet. Esteemed Comitium. May the Graces smile upon you." _The hologram nodded his head in a quick bow. _"Palpatine out."_ The ghostly image sizzled out. Silence settled in as the members of the Cabinet exchanged pensive glances. Not everyone was on the same page. It was time for Amidala to speak out.

"The upkeep of the hyperdrive net has burdened the Mid Rim systems for too long. It is not just Naboo. It is Nakadiah. Takodana. NaJedha. I believe this change will allow _every_ world to partake in trade on more equal terms." Amidala looked around the members of the Cabinet, the electors of the Comitium. "This is great news for us all."

"That former policy never made sense in the first place, your Majesty," governor Sio Bibble nodded in accord. "We have financed the upkeep while being used as a mere recharge station for the Trade Federation. It is good to see a pushback."

"I would wait with the celebrations, your Majesty," said Aprahya Kavranjashri, the Minister of Commerce. "There is no reason to believe the Trade Federation would give up its privileges. Their response _is_ going to impact us. Do not underestimate their presence in the Galactic senate. Their corporation is represented not only by their reserved senatorial seats, but by the other planets they tied to themselves as well. They _will_ try to get the law repelled or prevent us from implementing any measures. We must prepare for the negotiations that are to follow. Otherwise, we can say goodbye to our banks."

"They surely do not possess such political power, if the results of the vote are to be believed," the governor retorted. "Sure, we might be hit with a wave of inflation in the following months, but our economy is strong enough to recover from a temporary recession."

"Your Majesty, we need to secure some leverage." Kavranjashri raised her voice. "A united front of Mid Rim systems is what we need in this situation."

"What about we see this as a business opportunity?" said the Minister of Industry, lord Qishareg. "Please, note I am not disputing the short-term drawbacks. However, it is quite likely to bring more contracts to our factories in the future."

"They have a near monopoly on shipping in our sector. Do you really think we are going to be offered fair prices?"

"Well, lady Kavranjashri, are we getting fair prices – no – _fair offers_ – now? _We_ get to decide the tariff rates in our sector. That plays in our favour – "

"I hope you realize, my lord, that we lack the bargaining power. Sure, we can offer them lower tariffs, but that will solve nothing. All the other systems can offer them the same thing, changing nothing about the status quo. What is the Federation going to gain from trading with us that they cannot get elsewhere? Will the profits from the transport taxation cover the decline in trade? Because the taxes on jumps are federal and we have no authority over those. Which means that any cargo ship will take as few jumps as possible. And if we rise the tariffs to compensate for the losses, are we prepared for the eventuality of the Federation ships taking a cheaper route to the Core?"

"Compared to other parts the Mid Rim, we are by far one of the richest regions. It would make no sense for them to put an embargo on their most prospective trading partner in the vicinity," governor Bibble said. "And even if it they did that, it is still important for us to take a firm stance against their exploitation of our resources. We cannot force any change for the common good, if we dread to risk any inconvenience."

"I agree with the governor." Amidala's voice echoed between the marble walls. "But I am not the one to decide this matter, esteemed Comitium. You know the facts. You have seen the data. I ask you to choose wisely our next course of action."

The queen sat back on her throne as the chamber erupted in an agitated debate.

. . .

Sabé woke up alone in her bedroom. It was a small chamber of red and black tapestries with large windows opening to the palace gardens. At first glance it was an obscenely rich space. It was a beautiful room without any doubt. And yet it bore a certain sense of monastic austerity. There was next to no furniture. Only a narrow bed, a wardrobe, and a dressing table.

For two years, Sabé had slept in this room, except for the nights when she had to stand vigil next to her queen's bed. It remained a stranger's room, a handmaiden's room. Like the cloaks the handmaidens wore, this chamber, this _cell_, hid the person inhabiting it so perfectly until only the pretty empty case was left.

Rabé always used to say that they all had a role to play. In a sense, Amidala was an invention. A group project carefully arranged and rehearsed, every part of her a poetry. Amidala was an ideal. Amidala was frozen in time. Amidala was hope and joy and awe. And her handmaidens were to tend to that image like a gardener would to an orchard.

She could not dally in the bed, she had to get ready. Today was a big day. Still in her night shift, she walked out of the bedroom. The bathroom, shared with the rest of the handmaidens of the small circle, was located at the end of the corridor. Once there, she was met with the slender form of Yané bent over the sink, washing her face.

"Sabé?" She turned off the stream of hot water and smiled. "Good morning, sister."

They were of no blood relation. Sister was what the queen's maidens addressed each other according to the court protocol. Yané came from the Veruna clan, an old aristocratic family stemming all the way back from Veritya, the third wife of Quilaan the Founder. Sabé herself, as far as she could trace back the family tree, belonged to the common folk from Keren city.

Yané's dark hair cascaded down to her waist; she did not have the time to braid it yet. Sabé caught herself in the mirror staring at the wild curls. It did not happen often to catch Yané without the usual veiled garb.

"Who's with Padmé?"

"Eirtaé. I haven't seen her this morning yet." Yané wiped her face with the soft blue towel hanging beside the sink. She gave her a quick glance in the mirror. "Senator Palpatine is coming today with the Federation's representative. Viceroy Gunray."

"Great." Sabé turned the facet on. "The more the merrier. Bibble is going to attend the meeting too, isn't he?"

"Yes. He, lady Aprahya, members of the Comitium… You name it. Quite a fanfare for haggling with a monger, if you ask me."

"Padmé can't stand the Viceroy." The water felt cool against her skin chasing away the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. "But I've got no idea how she plans to herd the Comitium to where she wants them."

"Neither do I. The last time they debated it in the chamber, a brawl nearly broke out."

"Can you imagine the rest of the Republic watching that on the holonet?"

"At least someone gets a giggle out of this." Yané snorted. "Gods, this is going to be embarrassing either way. We push for something and then shit ourselves at the idea of consequences."

"But hey, we are the _pinnacle_ of _Mid Rim civilisations!" _Sabé rolled her eyes, turning off the faucet. "I'd just feel better if they finally decided on something. Dad works in plasma export. Every other day he's calling me, because this shitshow can cost him his job."

"Oh. What did you tell him?"

"That with the tempo we're at, his grandchildren will work in the same field before they settle on anything."

"Your optimism is astounding."

"It's a talent."

Sabé had long since decided she would cherish this memory. Yané's lazy posture with her back against the pebbled wall, the scent of soap lingering in the air, two girls mocking the adult world behind the door. Maybe they were a ragtag band of Padmé's friends and peers, but the sense of camaraderie held them together.

Even if it had never been enough to keep her in Theed forever.

. . .

The last stroke of a paint brush touched her left cheek before Eirtaé withdrew her hand. Padmé glanced at the chalk white face or blood red lips and beauty marks staring back at her in the mirror.

"Wait, I still need to apply the kohl."

"As you wish."

"Thank you, your Majesty." Padmé might be the ruling queen, but she knew better than to resist the tyranny of beauty Eirtaé wielded in her honour. "I suggest the turquoise robe with black gold accents. With a head dress maybe."

"The dress is two sizes too big. Panaka wants me to wear body armour and a helmet underneath again, doesn't he."

"There are paranoid people and there are dead people, your Majesty."

"There are also people who wish not to be boiled alive in their own sweat." She sighed, already resigning to another evening of discomfort. "It's the middle of summer. Void take Panaka. No one is dumb enough to attack me in front of holorecorders."

"We can dial up the air conditioning."

"With poikilothermic Neimoidians visiting?" She slumped in her seat. "Bring the damn dress. No one can say a thing against the Naboo hospitality."

"That's the spirit, your Majesty."

"Eirtaé, I'm starting to suspect, you're enjoying this too much."

"I assure you I'm weeping inside, your Majesty."

Soon, the royal boudoir was filled with the rest of the handmaidens. Padmé longingly gazed at their bistre and brass silken robes. The fabric looked so light, draping around their forms with the slightest motion. She would bet it felt refreshingly cool against skin.

"Don't be so jealous, Padmé." Sabé roared with laughter. "We're wearing _two layers. _Can't hide the blasters otherwise."

"Two? Is it supposed to impress me? I have to wear a year's worth of silk production on top of the armour!"

"Ah, I can't hear you over the sound of a soft breeze blowing around my ankles." Sabé sighed dreamily. "I might shiver with cold even."

"One day," Padmé grumbled. "One day I'll make you all follow Panaka's decoy plan and we'll see who's going to laugh."

"Keep dreaming, your Majesty." The handmaidens giggled. "Hope never dies."

Well, it would be amazing if her supposedly loyal aids were _not_ a gaggle of annoying teenagers who liked to tease her just because she had the misfortune of being their direct superior. In theory.

It was much better to focus on the childish bickering than face the fact that in three hours she was to host the Viceroy as her first official state visitor. She could swear her guts twisted with anxiety every time she thought about it. Even though her fear was irrational – she was the Queen of Naboo, not the Speaker of the Comitium, nor the Governor. Her hands were tied by the constitution, abstaining her from any responsibility. She was there to bring legitimacy to anything her government would decide. That was her role. That was what she had been preparing for her whole life.

Three hours passed too quickly. With her palms sweating, she stepped into the throne room. The company present rose from their chairs, and her handmaidens surrounded her like shadows. She straightened her back, steeling herself. She was the Queen.

She was Amidala.

She walked to the throne with the deliberately slow tempo, passing by the standing officials. Let them marvel at her exquisite beauty. Eirtaé had done an astounding job. Let them see her masterpiece. The five handmaidens stood by her sides, two on each side, and Sabé guarding her back.

The Federation's representatives were seated on the opposite side of the throne room. She recognized Viceroy Gunray among his colleagues; his tall headdress was difficult to miss. They all bowed to her, as the protocol dictated. The hat did not fall off Gunray's head by a miracle.

"Welcome, Viceroy. Naboo is delighted to have you as her guest. Let our conference be fruitful to both sides."

"Pleasure is ours, your Majesty."

The negotiation started. To Amidala's surprise, both opposing parties of her Cabinet presented a rather agreeable offer. She should give Bibble a medal for such a stunt. Forcing a lothcat to mate with a nexu would be an easier task.

Low tariffs rimward and coreward, lady Kavranjashri announced. The Trade Federation did not need to worry about its lucrative merchandise. Incoming goods would be subject to duties only in the trail-spin axis, in order to protect the planet's local business.

"What we consider a non-negotiable issue is the spaceport toll," the Minister of Commerce said. "We are open to setting the exact amount to be paid, though."

"That certainly sounds reasonable," the Viceroy nodded. "But we have already decided what the best course for us both would be." He paused for a second, giving them all what resembled a human smile. "Join the Trade Federation Associates Pact. We would sell our goods much cheaper on Naboo while also distributing your export throughout the other worlds subject to the Pact." He rose from his chair. He walked to the front with a holoprojector in his hand.

A three-dimensional map of the Galactic republic emerged from the small marble. The systems subject to the Pact glittered with vivid green. Everyone knew the reach the Trade Federation wielded. But it was the sight like this that convinced even the most optimistic individuals. The green dots crawled through the map like a cancerous growth.

"Of course, this arrangement would be highly profitable to both parties," Viceroy Gunray said with a touch of hauteur. "As you see, we have the exclusive trade rights in the green marked areas. Gan Moradir and the entirety of the Sumitra sector have already joined us. Imagine the riches it would bring, when you enter the Associates Pact."

"What would the Federation demand in exchange?" Governor Bibble's voice would cut glass.

"Oh, only a certain… level of receptivity to our suggestions when it comes to dealings in the Senate. I am sure it is a small price for the access to such a huge market."

The majority of the Comitium looked rather disturbed. Everyone knew what the offer meant in praxis. The Federation came to dictate. Negotiations were never meant to take place.

"That is a matter of public vote, Viceroy," lady Kavranjashri said. "Even if we agreed on your terms, we do not have the mandate to make such a major decision without the public consent."

"I am afraid time is not on your side." Viceroy Gunray turned off the holoprojector. "We want this matter to be settled by the end of the week. If you are unable to decide by then, we are going to take legal actions against Naboo."

"That is preposterous, Viceroy!" Governor raised his voice. "You know too well your threats have no basis in the Galactic law. No interplanetary court is going to give you the right to _demand _for us to give up our representation in the Senate. Especially, when you want to exploit any loopholes to avoid paying taxes."

"You will find out that the situation is not as clear cut as you wish it to be." Viceroy Gunray turned to Amidala. "Your Majesty, I doubt you wish your planet to be cut off from the interplanetary trade. Sign the treaty and we can forget about this unfortunate argument."

Amidala felt everyone's eyes burn into her.

Padmé caught herself standing up, trembling with anger. How dare they.

"Viceroy Gunray, there is no way I am signing this mockery of a treaty. You forget you are not dealing with one of your subjugated colonies. Even if the Comitium had the mandate to vote on this, I would never lower myself or Naboo to give it even a modicum of legality."

"Queen Amidala, you have no idea who you deal with," the Viceroy retorted coldly. "We can and we _will_ make you see how beneficiary our offer is."

"Let me make this matter clear, _Gunray."_ Padmé dropped the pretence of courteousness as well. "Naboo will _never_ become a part of your colonies. You are more than welcome to take this to the court. But you will find out that no monarch of Naboo will ever sign away our freedom.

"Your welcome here has expired. Leave the planet immediately."


End file.
